


and there, i see you

by cherryleclerc



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: Angst, M/M, Mutual Pining, bar setting, just rly sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:07:04
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,612
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29065560
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherryleclerc/pseuds/cherryleclerc
Summary: they both still think about each other.
Relationships: Lewis Hamilton/Nico Rosberg
Comments: 6
Kudos: 16





	and there, i see you

**Author's Note:**

> blame the brocedes gc for this💋 
> 
> not proof-read so sorry if it's terrible LMAOOO 
> 
> i’d also recommend listening to this on loop whilst reading / https://youtu.be/H4o0vMXQRhU
> 
> feel free to follow me on twitter!!! @ricciardko 
> 
> thanks babes, kudos and comments are very much appreciated x

It’s the first time in months that Nico’s been out. He’s back home in Monaco for some business deal that he didn’t really pay attention to during the pitch, but he wants a break from the travelling.

It always seems to slip his mind that _he_ ’s in Monaco too.

So there Nico stands, the blue shirt draped over his shoulders, creasing at the stomach as he slumps forward in-front of the full length mirror on the wall, picking at the spots in his teeth. He’s flossed three times tonight, but he still feels like there’s some left. Maybe it’s just the panic, the dread sitting thick in his stomach that he could breeze past Lewis and neither of them would realise. That the loving air that once always sat between them, was now the one that sat between a pair of strangers.

He sweats as the dress shoes slide over his shaking feet whilst he wills himself to breathe, his fingers trembling as he ties the laces with the ‘much cooler’ bunny ear method that Lewis taught him when they were both short of being ten years old, sat on the sidewalk of the karting track and laughing as Lewis’ tongue stuck out as he concentrated on his own hands, talking Nico through every step. It always comes back to Lewis, every second of his life since the retirement, it always comes back.

The car is strangely cold in the twenty-five degree heat, his manager is quiet and on his phone as usual, and Nico stares empty out of the open window, the breeze whispering through his hair as his eyes jump across the boats on the bay. It’s eerily quiet on this side of town, and it makes him feel sick all over again. He should’ve just stayed in again, maybe watched some tv and then ate some ice cream in the dark. _Vanilla_ , like they used to eat at midnight together, their legs crossed on the bed as they told each other stories over and over again, until their ribs hurt from laughing and the brain freeze came in waves. Like they used to.

—

It feels forty degrees hotter in the bar, and he already wants to leave, but the promise of maybe seeing him tonight draws Nico back in all over again. It’s a baseless promise, one that will probably stay empty, but it’s still there nevertheless. He orders a neat whiskey, needs something that takes the edge off and settles warm in his stomach in favour of the rising bile of fear. There’s a sea of people around him and the bar as he hovers from the side, moving in waves with each other and it makes him feel segregated, stuck out like a sore thumb as he looks around, his eyes searching for any sign that Lewis is here too, but he’s interrupted by someone clapping their hand firm on his shoulder, and his heart skips for a second in pure confidence, but his face falls when he turns to see that it’s just another one from the business team, so he forces a smile in their direction and then stares down into the rapidly emptying glass between his cold fingers.

It’s been hours since they came and Nico is still in the same spot, wedged against the corner of the bar as he stares out into the crowd, and he’s not sure what he’s really looking for anymore. He’s on his third whiskey and everything is starting to go fuzzy, dark at the edges as his concentration starts to slacken and that sickening feeling begins to creep back up his throat, leaving a sour burn on his tongue. He’s tired, he wants to go home and just fall asleep again, let this day pass as a bad dream and let it move into the back of his mind like of the rest of them always do.

The group of people that have been in the middle of the bar for a full season begin to move, laughing as they move to the dance floor, and Nico’s eyes follows them as they holler to each other over the music, smiles plastered on their faces as they all morph into one with the crowd.

His eyes sweep back to the bar again, and Nico feels sick all over again. But this time it’s not the whiskey, not the heat, not the press of the crowd and the vibration of the music against his bones, it’s something else. He’s hit with a wave of cold sweat as every single muscle in his body tightens like a vice, the glass of whiskey connecting with the wooden bar top to stop it from shattering on the floor as Nico feels the sweat pool at the back of his neck. He trembles.

There, elbow leant against the wood as he smiles, pearly white and _pretty_ , like it always was and always will be, is _him_. _Lewis._

Nico can’t breathe, feels his lungs crackle as he inhales the thick air that settles around him, and simply stares at the man before him. Lewis is in his element, confident and _happy._ Nico lets his eyes flick across to see who he’s smiling at, and he’s hit with the picture of Daniel Ricciardo, toothy and charming like he always is, the bridge of his nose crumpling as he laughs again, both of their smiles reaching their eyes.

Nico can’t help but let the ideas of them being together cloud his mind, toxic and thick as it sits foul on his conscious, making his eyes burn and water from the fumes. It’s been years for fucks sake, Lewis should be able to move forward, it’s not Nico’s problem anymore. But suddenly, _it is_ , and he wants nothing more than to push himself in between the two of them and reignite the flame that was once constantly burning, bring back those fleeting touches and hours spent together of just enjoying the presence that sits between them, see the smile that was always only ever meant for him.

But he can’t. Doesn’t have it in him to.

So he watches from the sideline as Lewis soaks up the attention and the adrenaline of it all. He simply sinks back into the shell of his former self and keeps the reserved Rosberg curtain up, the one that he’s kept up since the retirement to prevent things like _this_ from happening again, to stop it from swallowing him up completely. Lets the ideas of what could’ve been wrap around his heart and tighten every time he sees the pictures of him on his phone, the tears collecting in the corners to call him nothing but feeble and insecure.

Nico’s eyes finally fall away from the pair, settling back on the empty glass held between his cold fingers again, the dregs of whiskey and watered down ice swirling in the bottom. He’s not sure where to go from here anymore, wasn’t expecting that promise to be fulfilled. He feels lost, empty and cold, and now that it’s all staring him in the face, he turns away like a coward.

He doesn’t feel Lewis looking back at him, the same pained expression mirrored on those soft brown eyes that was swept over his own face just a few minutes ago. Lewis stands still as the waves of memories wash over him all over again, and Dan follows his eyes too, his face turning solemn when he realises who’s on the other side of the bar. Lewis itches to approach him, start those fleeting touches again and see that smile stretch across Nico’s lips like it used to on the cold nights shared in the hotel rooms, both of them tucked up under the covers.

But there’s a _reason_ Nico left. So Lewis sticks to that reason and pushes himself back down, turning back to Daniel and pasting that smile back on his own face as he watches Nico through his peripheral, a piece of him hoping that there’ll be further movement, but there isn’t.

The air turns cold, and Nico swallows as his friends start to move, talking about leaving to go to a bar with a different view, even though they haven’t left this spot in hours. He just wants to call a cab and go back home, let the darkness swallow him up and pass him over to a different day, where this moment never happened, where he can keep sweating about the idea of _what if_ and no longer _what now._ So he makes the choice to glance back over at what was, and doesn’t expect to be met with those soft brown eyes, that crack his heart in two when the light settles.

They’re both cowards, balancing the line of what was and what could be, too scared to make the first move, so it stays as a thought and no longer a moment as Nico’s sleeve is tugged by his manager, beckoning for him to follow. Nico takes one last moment to let that look wash over him, and his heart tugs as Lewis seems to straighten up when he realises what’s leaving him. Nico is the one to break the contact, and the regret comes in waves, that sick feeling rising once again. It’s over. It always has been.

—

Nico gets a cab home, letting the darkness swallow him again as he steps through the door and sleeps on the couch, because he doesn’t have the strength to make it to the bed before the tear tracks are burning down his nose.

He calls Lewis for the first time in months.

Lewis doesn’t pick up.


End file.
